A Certain Suicide

A Certain Suicide

I live a certain suicide
My days and nights and my asides
Are marked for something else I haven’t
Found around here

I’m crowded by synthetic things
And it’s very hard not to cling
The taste is sweet, the smell, the sound
Easy to hear

The sneaky ways they slither in
The largest wallet, the whitest grin
A fast ride to find something pretty
For my feet

These, and more, invade with skill
Through parts of me that I must kill
And die and die to, and die again, before I
Am complete

When you see me, I won’t fib
The things I love are hard to give
For glory’s sake, to rid myself of this
Needless weight

But think on this: On my traveling day,
I’d have to throw away
What I can’t bring. My car and house
Won’t go through His narrow gate

I live a certain suicide
No funeral for me tonight
Don’t lay heads low, don’t sing sad songs
Look at my empty hand

I’m lifting it up to the sky
I know His gifts won’t be denied
There’s room for them to land on me
So heavy, I can barely stand